Trypanophobia
by Shadow Geek 123
Summary: Jazz hides from Ratchet when he was supposed to have a check up. Everyone in the base, both humans and Autobots, are forced to look for the elusive saboteur due to a furious CMO. Jazz needs all the luck and all the skills he has to escape the Hatchet's wrath. Possible hilarity might ensue.
1. Chapter 1

**Hello, this would be my first fanfic that I would be posting in this site. I might be late in updating or I'm just too lazy. Meh, whatever happens to me, just enjoy whatever I have written. I hope you like it. Write some reviews or constructive criticism or whatever more experienced writers cal it. And please, no flames. Bye!**

 **Disclaimer: If I owned Transformers, I would never let Jazz die. Or at least let him be revived by the shard like Optimus was revived with the Matrix.**

"Where in Pit is Jazz?!" a gruff voice sounded throughout the base. Every 'Bot and human winced in sympathy for the mentioned mech. They had at least angered the medbot once and it was never pretty. "He's late for his check up, slaggit! I gave him time to get used to being up and about, but he's still late!"

A tall red and blue robot tried to calm him down. "I am sure Jazz will be here soon and have a reason, Ratchet," he ducked as the chartreuse Hummer swung a wrench at him. "Please put that down."

"He's just been revived by the Matrix, Optimus!" the medic snarled. "He needs to be in this berth _right now_ so I could run some tests! Who knows what viruses he has?! He could have some glitch because he's been offline for two years!"

Someone interrupted the furious Cybertronian, which was very brave of the human. No one ever butted in when the alien medic was ranting and cursing with words that would make a sailor blush. Even Decepticons feared an angry Hatchet. "Jazz was revived last week. I thought he was cleared."

"Yeah. Haven't you done that yet, with Jazz staying in the Med Bay the whole week?"

The chartreuse medic gave the soldiers the evil eye, making a Will Lennox and Robert Epps flinch. "He was in stasis the whole time! I still need to examine him when he's awake. But the moment he onlined for more than a breem, he bolted for it, fraggit!"

Before he could do anything else (like throw a wrench at either of the innocent mech or the easily-killable organics), two mechs came in dragging another one with the color scheme of silver.

Jazz all but screamed and was scrambling to get a foothold. "Prowler, don' give meh ta tha Hatchet! 'Hide, yer on mah side, right?"

The black stout one snorted. "I'm not giving Ratchet a reason to dismantle me."

The medic gave an evil grin when the silver Pontiac looked over his shoulder with puppy eyes. The two soldiers and the Prime looked away, knowing that they'll be hooked, and they really didn't want to risk Ratchet's wrath. The medic himself was stalking towards the newcomers, his wrench tapping onto his palm; he was immune to _Bumblebee's_ puppy eyes, Jazz's had no effect on him.

Jazz whimpered. "Hehe, hey Ratchet. How are ya?"

"You're late, Jazz. Not only that, you left your berth without my consent. So, I'm not going to be lenient on you," the medic glared at his prisoner. He turned to the black and white SIC. "Where did you find him this time?"

Epps turned to his fellow brother-in-arms. "Jazz runs from the Hatchet? That's crazy, man!" Will could only shrug as he continued watching the 20-foot plus aliens (minus Jazz).

Prowl vented, his fans slightly kicking in. "We found him hiding in the human barracks. He gave us quite a chase afterwards."

Ironhide grunted. "Are you serious, Prowl?" He gave the struggling Jazz a shake. "He made us chase after him all over base for a cycle like he was a damn turbofox! Then he keeps denting us!" The black Transformer motioned to the few dents on his and the SIC's pelvis.

Epps gave a low whistle that got cut off by his lovely friend via an elbow to the ribs. Both glared at each other, one with a question in his eyes and the other with a warning look. They look away after a few minutes when the Autobots continued.

Optimus vented heavily. He needed to sort out his TIC; he's been avoiding his inevitable check up for too long, in both the CMO's and the Prime's optics.

However, before he could do anything, such as defuse the tension in the room, said CMO was approaching said TIC with a… huge… syringe. OK, he had to admit, Ratchet's bedside behavior left much to desire and even the Prime hated to be on the receiving end of that needle. He was glad he was not Jazz.

The Lt. Colonel and Chief Master Sergeant winced heavily at the sight of the humongous syringe. They suddenly pitied the silver 'bot. If the medbot used it on them, they too would have run, no matter how inevitable it was! No one in their right mind would subject themselves to that kind of pain!

Jazz, if he could, paled and felt, what did the humans say? 'Ice coursing in their veins?' Well, he felt that saying. His cooling fans kicked in desperately as he heated up. He momentarily stopped fighting the grip of his two captors and said captors gazed worriedly at the 'Bot's stillness. Even Optimus and Ratchet looked concerned, but not as much glee in the latter's case.

"Don't worry, Jazz. This will hurt for only a nano-klik," the medic assured him, continuing to advance. "This will just put you under for a while and I will be looking into your software and anti-virus program. It's been some time since you had a check up so I don't know what we will expect."

The saboteur's processors were on overdrive, trying to find a way to escape the menace that was Ratchet's needles. Come on, he could get behind enemy lines any time he wanted and escape without a scratch! He could escape the CMO, his lackeys, and Prime, hide out somewhere in the organic world until the danger (Ratchet) was over…

Pit, he was gonna go to the Well of All Sparks via spark attack.

Wait, his processors stalled. Didn't the Major Twins give him some prank items? He could use them to get away! But it could be a dud; it was the Twins he's talking about. Well, it's always worth a try.

Ratchet was startled when Jazz resumed his fighting when he was the Cybertronian equivalent of three meters. Before he could do anything, the saboteur had elbowed the Weapons' Specialist in the tanks, reached in his subspace, and threw something on the ground.

Black smoke quickly filled the room and Jazz took the opportunity to wrench his arm from his bonded and fled the Med Bay. Now he just needed to hide.

"JAZZ! Get back here, you glitched Unicron-spawn!"

"Catch meh if ya can, Ratchet!" he called back before speeding off, leaving a raging CMO, venting superior officers (minus Ironhide. However he could blast his aft off for this), and coughing organics.

"Prime, I need that glitched mech on this berth now!"

Optimus vented, rubbing his nasal ridges, a habit he got from Lennox and Morshower. He turned to his SIC, who nodded in understanding. Now, he was going to hide in his office to avoid getting roped in the search party Prowl and/or Ratchet was forming with the pretense of getting ready for a non-existent meeting.

::Autobots, Ratchet needs a search party for an escaping Jazz. We need everyone on base to bring him in the Med Bay:: Prowl growled in the public comm. line He added ::Whoever aids the TIC will serve brig time and have an automatic check up with Ratchet, his wrench, and his syringe. Prowl out::


	2. Chapter 2

**I'm back again! Sorry that it took some time and all of you had to wait. It's hard to use the computer in a family of five and I rather not use my phone with the auto-correct and stuff. If something is wrong, review and comment any healthy criticism. But no flames please. Enjoy my work!**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own the Transformers fandom. If I did, I would most likely be filthy rich.**

 **XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

Sam, Mikaela, and Bumblebee watched in confusion (amusement in 'Bee's case) as the Autobots rushed around, clearly looking for something. The three of them were playing Halo in the Autobot Rec Room when Jazz burst in and ran out the other exit.

A moment later, the Autobots were on their pedes. Some left immediately through the exit the revived mech used; the others were checking their equipment and subspaces. However, it wasn't long until the Rec Room was abandoned except for the two humans and Bumblebee.

"What's happening? Is it a 'Con?" Sam was still paranoid due to the Battle of Egypt but was getting better, despite the constant nightmares and panic attacks and flinches to loud noises. He was the same two years ago after Mission City.

` Bumblebee gave a whirl and a chirp before using his radio. "Nah – they're looking for – Jazz. Ratchet – wants him."

The couple nodded in understanding. They often had to break out of the Med Bay when the medbot wasn't looking and was keeping them hostage for an unknown amount of time. 'Bee had to assist them when he got the chance and vice-versa.

"Excuse me – but I – need – to find him," the black and yellow Autobot rose up from his seat and was headed in the same direction as the other mechs. "Ratchet – will have – my head!"

Mikaela turned to her boyfriend. "Want to find out where Jazz is?"

Sam stared at her for a beat before smirking, "Leo and I are rubbing off on you. Let's go. I don't want us to miss any of the fun if and when the guys find him."

 **XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

Jazz looked out from his hiding place after he heard a couple of mechs storm past his way. He was getting real tired of hiding as he made his way to the base's exit. He was just glad he told Teletran I to stop transmitting the base's cameras and not listen to any of the other mechs, including Prowl and Prime. It was nice being friends with everyone on base, no matter how reluctantly (* _cough_ * _cough_ * Sunny * _cough_ * Ratchet * _cough_ * _cough_ *).

At least everyone was getting a workout, even Ratchet (who he could hear down four halls over)! Well, almost everyone. Knowing Prime like he did, he was avoiding the medbot so that he wouldn't be involved with their conflict. Maybe he could hide out in his room if he didn't get out…? No, he would hand him over to eye-watering yellow green 'bot.

After making sure that no one was coming over, he crawled out of the base's vents. Not for the first time in his very long life did he thank Primus for making him shorter than the average Cybertronian. Only Bumblebee could get into the vents, and even then he had problems squatting on his leg struts.

He still didn't understand why the vents were so big. Soundwave's cassettes could get in no problem… or at least the onlined ones. It didn't seem like a human custom or something.

There was a fizz and a crackle before ::Red Alert, close and lock the base's exits. Jazz cannot get out or Ratchet will have _all_ our heads::

::Yes, Prowl:: came the reply. ::I'll make sure he nor any 'Cons get in or out. You can count on me::

Slag the SD and his bonded! Why did he have to jinx himself earlier?! Now everyone was stuck where they could 'accidently' step on the organics in their hurry to find him. Sunstreaker was still on watch for threatening to step on Chia Pet and Agent Jerkwad. Not to mention, he can't simply waltz through the doors so now he had to find a way out of a base he didn't know the layout of!

He vented hard, his visor darkening with his emotions. Now he had to get back to his hiding place before some mech happened upon him and dragged him to the Pit known as Ratchet's Med Bay.

"Look who we've found, Sunny!"

CLANG! "Don't call me that, scrapheap."

"OW!"

Frag, the twins. How did they manage to sneak up on him?! He should have heard them, or anyone for that matter, two halls over! OK, that was an exaggeration. But still, he was losing in his own game!

He turned around and gave the troublemakers his best smile. "Sides, Sunny, mah mechs! How are ya in this fine day?"

The red Lambo smirked, "Just fine, Jazz. You look a little troubled there. Do you think we should comm. Ratchet or Prowl, Sunny?"

The golden mech gave his twin a glare. "Perhaps we should, you fragger. You want to do the honors or should I?"

Jazz' systems stalled and before he knew it, he tackled both of the frontliners, ignoring Sunstreaker's cry of "My paint!" and Sideswipe's grunt as he swung a leg over both of them. The red mech was groaning as he held the back of his helm.

He could not let that happen. If he had to disengage the twins' comm. links so he wouldn't have to go back to that blasted place, then so be it. He wanted to shudder at the consequences of the medbot getting his servos on him.

"Contact Ratchet and ah'll throw ya both inta tha brig!" Of course he would give them some warnings before actually deactivating them, even for a little bit. Was that harsh? Yes, but he didn't care. Today is all about survival.

"Jazz!"

 **XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

Sam didn't want to believe what his eyes were seeing. His brain just didn't compute. He didn't want to accept that the laid-back silver mech that died two years prior (give or take a few months) was sitting on both the infamous Lambo Twins, a servo on each chassis, helm very close to the red brother.

It was bad enough 'Bee caught him and Mikaela doing the dirty and had Ratchet explaining Cybertronian anatomy and sex; he would never want to see it in action for real!

He grabbed his girlfriend's arm (God, he loved that word! His _girlfriend_! Even after two years of dating, he still wondered if it was all a dream and he would wake up any moment now), who looked slightly nauseous as well, and turned them both around, ready to march away from any more mental dangers.

Maybe they should let the big guys handle it…

Sam gave a squeak (ahem – sorry, it was a manly cough; men do not squeak or squeal) as a servo grabbed the couple – gently, of course – and lifted them up from the ground. Then their surroundings were moving fast for either adults (because that's what they are) to know where they were going.

All Sam knew was that he had vertigo, Sunny and Sides were shouting angrily after Jazz, and that the mech was going left-right-right-left-right-left-left-right before he lost count ( _How is the base this big?_ He thought absentmindedly) and into a room after a chase with red-blue-white lights [somehow, they've gotten into Jazz' alt-mode without getting squished – and that was a relief – and why did it seem so similar to the car chase with Barricade (stupid 'Con) two years ago? But with Prowl and Jazz…].

Anyway, it was safe to say that Sam was dazed and absolutely had no clue where in the world they were, and when he looked at his girlfriend to his right, the look on her face said she didn't know their location too.

And then they were moving again (again, how did it escape his notice that Jazz transformed?) but this time, it was up. Sam had to hang on tight to the aliens chassis – they somehow got there instead of his servo – and had to cover his mouth to avoid breathing in the sudden presence of dust. Beside him, Mikaela was doing the same.

Even Jazz had to keep his vents circulating and fans on hard to cycle the dust that entered his systems, doing his own version of coughing.

Once they were in a reasonable distance away from the exit, Jazz set down the two organics, making sure that they were on his right side, as the vent they just came through was on his left.

"What was that about?!" Sam started spazzing. "Wh-w-why did you do that?" Even if he was a soldier (unofficially) and survived two intergalactic wars, he was still a spaz underneath everything. "You can't just go around kidnapping people!"

Mikaela rolled her eyes at her boyfriend's antics. She tilted her head to look into their kidnapper's optics which held a dose of mirth and a slight touch of panic. "Sam has a point."

"If it was because we interrupted your special time with the Lambo Twins, I'm sorry!" Sam was nearly screaming, not giving the larger being a chance to answer. "Trust me; I did not need to see you and the twins going at it! I need mind bleach, gah! Couldn't you have done it inside a locked room or something?!"

Before the spastic Witwicky could, uh, spazz some more, his much _calmer_ (even if irritated) girlfriend had wacked him upside the head, ignoring his startled yelp. She turned questioning eyes at the fidgeting alien.

Now, Jazz was the best saboteur, spy, and interrogation master (next to Ironhide) and he could get through a questioning (interrogation, debriefing, whatever you want to call it) – receiving or giving – without giving anything away. He could best Ironhide, Ratchet, and the Prime – never Prowler, he was too intelligent and crafty – if he wanted to. He was one of the base's top flirters (that title went to Sideswipe and next Sunstreaker; he didn't want to get Prowler's wrath) and could get away with anything.

However, he could never win against femmes – and sparklings (but that was everyone's weakness, even the 'Cons except for sparkless Megatron) – they had a mind of their own and had a whole arsenal up their sleeves, metaphorically speaking. Not even the SIC of the Autobots could decode a femme's processor.

It wasn't long until he cracked and tried to put off his nervousness with a smirk, planning to distract the humans as long as he can until they forget.

"Tha' wasn't interfacin', Samuel," he focused on the spluttering organic who was going red at the use of his proper first name. "Though ah could show ya what interfacin' looks like. Ah might have some files if ya like…"

"Nononono!" Jazz found it really amusing to see the human act like a sparkling, even after being in the Well of All Sparks for two years. It was… refreshing, to be among the living again. "Save the alien porn for Miles! He'll love that!"

Jazz couldn't help snickering at the reminder of the blond hippie. He had searched Milton Lancaster's blog and it was all about aliens, conspiracies, aliens, cars, supermodels, aliens, planes, and guess what else? More aliens.

"Ahem," the thirteen-foot mech jolted at the sound. The mechanic had that 'Go on' face. "Why are we here, Jazz?"

He hesitated. He truly had no idea why he had grabbed 'Bee's Charge and said Charge's mate. He didn't want them to tattle to Prowl or Ratchet? He thought they'll spread the rumor he was interfacing the Twins and didn't want Prowl to know? He couldn't really tell them that he panicked when he noticed them and had let his instincts take over. So he did the next best thing. He lied.

Jazz gave them a smug grin as he replied as coolly as he could, "Ah just wanted ta talk ta ya both. An' with tha whole base looking for meh, this is tha one place ah could think of."

"In a dusty vent?" Sam wrinkled his nose. He was ready to book it once the mech's attention was diverted, not to mention his allergy to dust was just about ready to affect him.

"Yeah, that's about right," the TIC muttered.

Mikaela glared at him, arms crossed over her chest. "Then talk. Or I will call Bumblebee or Prime to fetch us. I want a good reason as to why I shouldn't."

The mention of their Guardian and his Prime made the Autobot cringe.

"I don't believe you dragged us all the way over here just to 'talk'. That's bullshit and you know it," the femme added. So, why are we – or more specifically, _you_ – hiding in a vent?"

 **XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

"OMG! What if – Jazz – hurts – Sam and – Kayla?" Bumblebee was pacing in Optimus' office, not letting any of the other officers talk, lost in his tirade and worry. "Where is he – keeping them? What if – **Decepticons** – get in and – find them?!"

"Bumble–"

"No – Jazz – will never – hurt them – and will – protect them."

"Bee–"

"He might – drop them! And – Sam and – Mikaela will – get hurt!"

"Sol–"

"I have – to find – them!" With that, the Camaro transformed and raced out of the room, leaving the original team (minus Jazz) and Prowl in the room with Lennox and Epps.

The Autobots vented in unison at the black and yellow "Bot's spazziness. He was spending too much time with Sam and he(Sam) was rubbing off on him(Bumblebee). The organics just looked amused with the whole thing.

The silence was broken by Ratchet. "I'm going to kill him."

No one said anything else to anger the already furious medic and decided to follow the long-gone Guardian in his quest to find his MIA teenagers.


	3. Chapter 3

**Hello fateful and new readers. I'm back from the dead, sort of. I'm busy studying for school so that I can be ahead of class, but, well, I'm doing this instead of studying so ya better thank me for this new update!**

 **Kidding, but if you do, feel free to do so. It's a free world and no one can force you to do anything.**

 **This is the last chapter since I'm fairly out of ideas and I'm working on two more stories (sadly NOT Transformers-related), BUT I might make something later, much later once I'm finished and have a rhythm, that concerns Sunstreaker's revenge mentioned down below.**

 **Anyway, enjoy this chapter and review! I like reading your reviews; it fills me with warm, happy, feelings!**

 **Disclaimer: I'm a high school girl, how can I own something that's been around for 33 years?**

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Prowl was getting exasperated with his bonded's actions. Ratchet was giving everybot a helmache with his demands in finding their TIC. It didn't help that the Lambo Twins were complaining to him about his bonded, said bonded made him chase him around the base in a ridiculous manner twice, and the youngest 'Bot in the planet (or even in the nearest galaxies!) 'went crazy', as the organics say it, with worry over his Charges and was making a huge disturbance out of it! He was tempted to let loose Ratchet on the youngling to check if his processor was malfunctioning but decided against it. He had more important stuff to do…

…Like find his missing mate and give him a smack upside the helm and some brig time for kidnapping humans, escaping Ratchet, and being a general annoyance to everybot today. Prowl was going to make sure Jazz regretted running.

Now, to dislodge the idiots hanging on him…

"Does Jazz hav a virus?" the red idiot asked.

His yellow twin grumbled in Cybertronian, **"He'd better. He gashed my paintjob and dented my chassis!"**

The police car vented his thirtieth one today (not that he's counting). The two had converged on him the moment he emerged from Prime's office after Bumblebee went haywire, demanding to know what was wrong with their fellow prankster. At the moment, he was comparing the pros and cons of leaving the two in either Ratchet's or Ironhide's supervision or dumping them in the brig. He decided to postpone the decision for later.

"Prowl, Prowlie, Proooowlll," Sideswipe moaned as he poked the cruiser. "You didn't answer…" No answer, another three pokes. "I'm bored. Why do we have to find Jazz?"

Sunstreaker just tailed them as he continued muttering on how to make the saboteur pay, seething about a crowbar, paint remover, neon pink and green paint, along with other various stuff Prowl didn't bother to remember. Besides, Jazz deserved some misery after this day.

"Prooooowwllleeerrr," the red bit-brain moaned.

He vented for the thirty-first time. Maybe he could deactivate them for a while? Perhaps Prime would allow that.

It was going to be a long day and it wasn't even noon yet!

 **XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

"So…" Sam peered at his (generally friendly) kidnapper. "You're afraid of needles? And Ratchet wanted to give you a shot… Ok, I get it now."

Jazz grinned sheepishly. Primus, it's so embarrassing that an organic – a femme at that – made him talk and that the couple know his secret! Why did he have to have grabbed them?

Mikaela gave him a sympathetic gaze. "What's the reason? I know Miles is afraid of needles too because it's pointy. You're a –"

"How did you know that?" Sam cut her off, confused. Were they finally talking to each other? He was pretty sure Miles was still pissed at him and Mikaela, him for blowing him off at that lake party and for Mikaela being the reason and then both of them for not telling him about the Autobots. He still talked to them, more after the Fallen, but not as much as he used to…

Mikaela shot him an irritated look. "I overheard you and Miles talking about it last Thanksgiving and everybody got the giardiasis and everyone was required to get a shot."

"Oh yeah," Sam said dumbly, remembering that day. Miles was going crazy and both Sam and 'Bee were considering calling Ratchet to find out what was wrong but vetoed it when he started ranting about evil doctors and pointy abominations.

"Anyway, as I was saying," Mikaela shot her boyfriend a pointed look, which he ignored. "You're a saboteur, Jazz, an Autobot. You had your fair share of pointy objects and uh, energon. And from what I've heard from the other 'Bots, you never made a scene with Ratchet before."

"Well," Jazz drawled, scratching his helm. "Prowler would say it's illogical bu'… uh, needles lost their attraction for meh when this mech came screamin' ou' of tha med bay, followed by tha medbot wi' a," here he shuddered. "Syringe squirtin' whatever fluids, when ah was a sparkling'."

Jazz waited for them to laugh but all they did was look at each other before they just continued staring at him. Sam started, "That's not so weird, Jazz. I'm still afraid of the dentist. I was, like, eight, and just before my turn, the kid before me screaming bloody murder and I swear, two other kids ran out of there with me like a bat out of hell!"

Mikaela turned to him with interested eyes. "Really? I didn't know that."

Sam swore under his breath.

Jazz grinned with relief. At least the two teenagers weren't laughing at him, and one (possibly two) of them understood him! They turned back to him after arguing whether Mikaela was allowed to keep the blackmail material (it was a tie).

"That still doesn't explain why you never fought Ratchet before," Sam noted and his girlfriend gave him a glare for his lack of tact.

Jazz answered calmly, "Ah was always either ou' or somebot was holdin' meh down."

"Oh," Sam nodded.

Mikaela cut in before either could say another word. "So, Jazz, what are you gonna do?"

"Ah need ta get ou' before Hatchet or Prowler finds meh."

The couple looked at each other in the eyes. If Jazz hadn't known better, he would have thought they could read each other's processors or had comm. links like his race or something! After another moment, they turned back to him.

We'll help you get out. What do we need to do?"

 **XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

Prime vented as he sat in the (impossibly) large chair the humans had made for him (how in Pit did they get that much wood/metal/whatever-material and leather to make such a comfortable chair?) after entertaining the last Cybertronian youngling.

Bumblebee had spent nearly three quarters of a human hour tearing up his office after spending two hours scouring the Rec Rooms and both Autobot and Human Barracks, and somehow got it in his processor that he was helping Jazz hide the teenagers.

After arguing with the scout for two breems, Prime sent him to Ratchet. He might have a virus and if he didn't, a worried Guardian was all Ratchet's responsibility once said Guardian entered the Med Bay. He would deal with the fallout later if he must; at least the medbot was occupied.

Prime reviewed the day's events. At 1030 military time, Jazz was brought in to Ratchet, late for about a joor. At 1032, Jazz ran and hid. At 1100, Jazz was found by the Major Twins, Sunstreaker and Sideswipe and kidnapped the two civilians, Samuel Witwicky and Mikaela Banes a short while later. At 1110, they had a short, impromptu meeting in this very room where Bumblebee had a meltdown and ran off. And now, at 1400, Prime had succeeded in driving out the youngling (there were no better words for him) and was now relaxing in his warm and comfortable armchair…

BANG! The door slammed open and the Prime stopped himself from opening fire when he saw it was just Ironhide and the Major Twins stalking in. He sank back into his armchair.

"How can I help you?" he asked cautiously from his seat. Primus damnit, he was tired and he didn't care if he wasn't acting like a proper leader. He spent two hours around the base (no matter how much he tried, Ratchet all but threw him out of his own office!) for a most-likely-free saboteur before he found Bumblebee ravaging the office.

"What happened here?!" Sideswipe exclaimed before the Topkick could reply. "Did a 'Con get in here or something? If so, Red will be so pissed!" He gave a high-five to his twin.

"Bumblebee," was all Optimus said and the three warriors nodded. The scout could be a right Decepticon if he wanted to (even if he vehemently denied it), because, which Autobot (beside the Twins and Jazz) could do so much damage to an office that only held a desk, a chair, a filing cabinet, and a world map? "Ironhide?"

The black Topkick snapped back to attention. He gave a glare at the smirking Sideswipe and sulking Sunstreaker. "The two slaggers riled up Bumblebee again. Now's he's tearing up the Med Bay."

"Sunstreaker, Sideswipe," Prime gave them a disappointed and reprimanding look. They squirmed under his gaze. "Why did you do that? Bumblebee is stressed enough as it is and I fear Ratchet will fulfill his vow on reformatting you two into toasters."

"Sideswipe thought it would be a good idea to rile Bumblebee," Sunstreaker deadpanned.

"Sunny!" the red Lamborghini gasped. "You snitch!"

Prime vented when the Twins started their squabbling. He cut in before it could turn physical or before Ironhide could hit them. "Sunstreaker, Sideswipe, stay in the brig until Jazz is found, and even then, stay there for a joor."

"But that could be forever!" Sideswipe whined.

Prime raised an eyebrow ridge. "Would you rather I hand you over to Ratchet?" The Twins shook their helms rapidly. "Then you will stay in the brig unless one of the superior officers asks for you or there is a Decepticon attack. Ironhide, make sure they get there before returning to your search."

The Weapons' Specialist gave him a lazy salute; no doubt he learnt it from Lennox. He grabbed the Twins and dragged them out, ignoring their complaints. After a moment, there was complete silence in the room and the remaining Autobot finally relaxed fully in his armchair.

Maybe he could rest his optics for a while. After all, he barely had any recharge for the last week or so with all the meetings and Jazz' revival and a battle with a Decepticon.

Ratchet wouldn't mind. He's a Prime after all.

 **XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

Ratchet glowered at his charge. Bumblebee was being completely childish, reckless, and stupid! Oh, if only he was allowed to reformat disobedient Autobots into toasters and refrigerators! The youngling was currently squirming under all the straps and sedative the medbot injected into him. Sooner or later he would drift into recharge.

Now to clean up the mess his Med Bay was! Bumblebee had upturned all four berths, tore the cabinet filled with medical gowns and blankets for any unfortunate human that ended up in his care (why in Pit would the scout think Sam and Mikaela were there?), scared First Aid enough for him to leak coolant, and upended the tables holding the medicine. Fortunately, none had broken or spilled. It would be such a pain in the aft if it did.

If any of the Twins, Major or Minor, came in, they would get a faceplateful of his favorite wrench. In fact, he swore if anyone stupid enough to come in would get a wrench to the helm and a full-body examination, unless they were dying, First Aid, or organic. He couldn't have dying humans in his Med Bay, now could he? At least the dying 'bot and First Aid can withstand his wrath.

Maybe he could force the Twins to clean up the mess, but that would defeat the purpose of his vow and they could possibly antagonize his patient further.

No, it was better they stayed out of his way and his Med Bay.

 **XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

"Are you sure it's right?" Sam peered at the tiny cellphone screen. The blueprints stared bck at him. "The nearest exit is right ahead."

Mikaela shook her head in irritation. "No, Sam, we already passed the intersection. We're supposed to go right and then left again _before_ we go forwards."

Jazz nodded from behind them. "Tha lady is righ', Sam. From wha' ah got, we go righ'."

The college boy turned red. "Then why don't you lead then, if you got the blueprints?"

"As ya can see, ah'm on mah 'ands an' knees," the saboteur motioned to himself for effect. "Ah can't lead ah withou' getting' too fah ahead. An' ah need all the balance ah can get, so ah can't hold ya."

"Fine," Sam admitted at last. "Mikaela, you lead."

She grinned and they turned right and then left, waiting for Jazz in every turn. They continued on, talking to pass the time. It was only in the last dozen or so turns where everything turned wrong.

"Um," the mechanic muttered, looking at her phone. "Isn't there supposed to be a three-way here? And'we're supposed to go straight, right?"

Jazz nodded. "Mah processor says so too. Where did ya download tha blueprints?"

"From the base's internet…" Mikaela trailed off, groaning. Sam could see the screen slightly glitching.

"What?" Sam looked back and forth between his girlfriend and kidnapper. " _What_?"

Jazz continued where Mikaela left off. "Which is supervised by Red Alert an' Prowler. 'E knew ya would help meh."

Sam said dumbly, "Oh. That's bad."

Thay shot him an exasperated look and Mikaela muttered, "No shit, Sherlock."

Jazz gave her a confused look, if a robot could even look confused. "Hs name is Sam, Mikaela, or 'ave ya forgotten? Who is this Sherlock person?"

"It's just an expression, Jazz, just an expression. Do you have any idea where we are?" Mikaela asked. "We could be going in further the base, not outwards."

"No clue. Knowing Prowler, he's tryin' ta keep us in," Jazz started muttering. "Maybe if we switch some stuff or ah could prob'ly hack inta tha network or –"

"What's that noise, guys?" Sam interrupted him.

 **XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

Lennox looked at the gathered Autobots and soldiers. He winced at the annoyed, angered, and/or exhausted faceplates and faces alike. He himself was exhauseted from searching the while base for the elusive saboteur and the missing civilians. Instead of looking for them in one area like his soldiers were, he was required to check and double-check every room.

Now, Prime had called the meeting for every Autobot and soldier that wasn't still looking and had duties of their own. The colonel was glad for the reprieve; his legs and back were hurting and he was sure he hasn't felt this way except for boot camp and every major battle in his career. Epps stood beside him, relief in his features.

There were only about thirty soldiers, including himself and Epps, and four Autobots, which included Optimus, Prowl, his Guardian, and the human-sized 'bot, Blaster. The Security Director was still on camera duty, Bumblebee was in the Med Bay, Ratchet and First Aid were working on the scout, and the Major Twins were in the brig, if Lennox recalled correctly. And of course Jazz was missing.

"Maybe Boss 'Bot is calling off the hunt," Epps whispered to him. "I hope so."

Lennox stopped himself from grinning and whispering back to his best friend when said Boss 'Bot started talking. Instead, he gave a nod.

He half-heartedly listened to the regal leader as he talked and apologized about Jazz' behavior (and the same for the Twins) and how he'll get brig time and maybe a psychologist because his behavior might be a side-effect from being dead then brought to life and finally said the magic words: their search was at an end because most likely Jazz was outside and long gone and how he was sorry that their time –

Everyone snapped into attention when the ceiling burst open and a flailing silver body lnded on both the SIC and the Lennox' Guardian, interrupting the Prime's rant (really, it was a rant. He went on a tangent before getting to the main point: they didn't have to search for Jazz anymore). The humans scrambled for their guns and the Autobots not incapitated almost let loose their cannons. Then they stopped after taking a good look at the fallen intruder.

Lennox knew this moment would be one of the stories he would tell his daughter and future kids (he and Sarah were planning to have more in the next five years) and grandkids (though not n the near future; preferably when his little girl is finished in her education and had a job), but he would have to watch out for Ironhide first.

Jazz was on top of the two mechs on his front, a servo on his helm and the other on his side. His optics were a bright blue and coolant was slightly pooling up in his optics. Underneath him, the Autobot tactician was unnaturally still and the Lennox' Guardian was a pile of swearing and groaning metal. Prowl got out from whatever had captivated him and slid out from underneath the spy's legs and ruble, leaving the Weapons' Specialist on the ground with Jazz on top.

Lennox would remember the astonished looks of Prime and his soldiers, the grinning faces of Epps and Blaster, the agitated gaze (there was something else in those normally expressionless optics, but for the life of him, he didn't know what it was) of Prowl as he stared at the duo, and all the curses that his Guardian threw ("Get of me, you lump of scrap! I'll melt your aft for this, you Unicron-spawn of a Cybertronian! If you don't get off me, I'll use you for target practice, motherfragging scraps for processors!") for the rest of his life.

The highlight of the whole thing was when Ratchet stormed into the Prime's office, waving around a wrench, and shouting, "What is with all this noise?! I can hear you from my Med Bay and you're stressing Bumble–" before stopping when he caught sight of the Solstice and the Topkick.

Almost everyone in the room gave a chuckle when the medbot spluttered, "Why in Pit –? Is this real –? How did –? Ironhide bottoms?" Shaking his helm, he raised his voice, "Never mind. Thank you for finding Jazz, in spite of your unorthodox ways. I'll take him to the Med Bay for his _overdue_ check-up."

Ratchet picked up the dazed TIC, who didn't give a fight, and marched away from the room. Ironhide, finally free from the silver 'bot's weight, shook off the rubble and metal and plaster on him and stood up. He and Prowl stalked away in the same direction as Ratchet and Jazz.

"Hey, Sam! Mikaela!" Epps shouted suddenly, jerking everyone back to reality. The African-American was looking at the hole in the ceiling where the silver saboteur fell from, where two tiny heads peeked out from. "How's the view?"

Sam shouted back, which they barely heard, "It's good! Can someone get us down from here? We want to get back on solid ground!"

Everyone looked at the only Autobot that could reach them. Prime vented but he had a smile on his faceplate as he picked up the couple and brought them down. Lennox and Epps helped them get off.

"Since Jazz is found," Prime started. "And there is no need to find the civilians Samuel Witwicky and Mikalea Banes, you are all dismissed. Thank you all for your help and consideration."

The soldiers and Blaster dispersed while Prime held back Lennox, Epps, and the couple for a (de)briefing. After about a quarter of an hour of Sam and Mikaela alternatively telling their account of their kidnapping (minus Jazz' secret since they promised and were good friends), they were free to go. The four humans left together for the cafeteria since Sam and Mikaela missed lunch.

"What's going to happen to Jazz?" Sam asked worriedly.

Epps replied, "Probably gonna get his due from Ratchet and some brig time. Who knows? It's 'Bot business."

"Why did Jazz run?" Lennox asked curiously. "He never showed such behavior before. You should know since you were with him for four hours or so."

"Now that you mentioned it," Epps added. "You never did say what his reason was."

"Hey, man," Sam shrugged. "We've just spent it on talking and trying to find an exit. Jazz said nothing about his reasons."

"Come on. Tell us. We promise not to say."

The two teenagers glanced at each other and said in unison, "Nah. We're not telling. Go ask Jazz yourselves if you want to know so badly."

Sam continued, ignoring the two soldiers, "I'm gonna run ahead. Come with me?"

Mikaela nodded, "You bet. I'm starving."

They ran off, leaving the corporal and sergeant groaning behind them. Epps looked at Lennox and said, "You wanna ask Jazz himself?"

Lennox shrugged. "Why not?"

 **XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

 **THE END :)**

 **Hoped ya like it! Ya should, ya know, 'cause ah suffer an' all. ~Jazz**


End file.
